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Does anyone remember "Ratbat" or Robert A. Jung? (The authors name might be inaccurate, apologies if so). I have seen on 1 or 2 websites, a post-G1 cartoon FF of his, titled: "Cause of Madness" but cannot find "Ratbat's" sequel, "Legacy". However, I have saved a copy of "Legacy", I saved it along with Optimoose's - Cyclonus & Galvatron Adventure's, The Giant G2 fanfic which included "Optimus Prime Goes to Hell", a cool follow up fanfinc about Starscream getting punished for causing Nightbird's defeat, & the 2 FF by Ratbat that I mentioned.

I'm not sure where to find a complete set of FF by Optimoos as at the time that I saved them, the final chapters had missing pieces. If anyone has the 100% complete sagas of Galvy & Cyclonus, I would appreciate reading it or being given a link.

Anyway, if anyone is looking for any of these stories written back in the 90's, I have all of them. I have also been making an effort to find "Ratbat" but have failed.

If all these stories are still online, a link for myself and others would be much appreciated.

For those that have never heard of Cause of Madness & the follow up - Legacy, they are among the few truly well written FF TF stories from the 90's. I wasn't truly happy with G1 anything until DW & IDW comics which came years later.

Minor Update: A friend mentioned that there was a a small piece on an old TF FF website. The poster never did complete his uploads, & this was back in 2002. Also Robert Jung's listed email is not active as of right now.

Copyright 1995, Robert A. Jung
Originally published February 27, 1995

Note: This story takes place after the end of the American animated series, especially the episode "Rebirth." It also helps if you read my earlier fanfic story, "Cause of Madness," as this takes place immediately after it.

All characters depicted or mentioned in this story are the trademarks and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that aren't. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, is coincidental, etc., etc. Geez, it's just a story, guys. Don't get too uptight over it...

* * *

Megatron stepped into "his" room with a feeling of revulsion. Technically, they belonged to Galvatron, but the latter's recent demise meant that Megatron now possessed his command, his troops-and his oversized, ramshackled quarters. The relationship more than just one of inheritance; since Galvatron was originally created from Megatron's shattered form, formally they were the same person.

Am I guilty of suicide, then? Megatron mused idly. Any other person might have been disturbed at the idea of killing their own doppelanger, but not Megatron. He was too practical for such metaphysical discussions to bother him. All that mattered was the here and now: that he had been resurrected and that he had resumed command of the Decepticons.

Megatron brushed a pile of debris off a counter, then sat down and activated the computer terminal on it. He had just spent several hours among his troops, rallying them and raising their morale. Now he needed to be alone, in order to assess what had happened during his "absence" and plan accordingly.

His return was better than he had expected; the Decepticons accepted him with unbridled enthusiasm. Even Scorponok, recently binary-bonded to an ambitious alien named Lord Zarak, surprised him by declining to challenge his authority. It was clear that Galvatron was an incompetent madman who ruled only through the sheer power he had wielded. In contrast, Megatron was a leader with a proven record, as the Decepticons remembered who had led them when all of Cybertron was theirs.

At least, until the planet-eater Unicron arrived. Megatron scowled as he peered at the Decepticon roster that appeared before him. Between Unicron's attack on Cybertron, Megatron's disappearance, and Galvatron's own ineptitude, an army which once numbered in the millions was now reduced to a rabble of several hundred. With their meager supplies and a decrepit base on the planet Charr, they were a pitiful group indeed.

This was in complete contrast to the Autobots' situation. What was once a dying resistance when Megatron "disappeared" was now a thriving force. With most Decepticons killed and the rest scattered after Unicron's assault, the Autobots had retaken Cybertron with a minimum of effort. With Galvatron's so-called leadership, the Decepticons were pressed to stay alive, much less fight the Autobots. And now the planet was in its second Golden Age, recharged with enough energy for thousands of years.

For such power and potential to be wasted on a group of pacifistic Autobots was against everything Megatron believed in. To him, the Transformers were clearly a superior species who should be conquering the galaxy, and Cybertron the unstoppable fortress from which they would enforce their rule. Instead, the Autobots were starting diplomatic relations with other races such as the Nebulans, and helping their miserable human allies join the intergalactic community.

With a keypress, Megatron accessed the files on the Autobot ranks. His anger instantly latched on to the first name on the display: Optimus Prime.

"No!" His fist slammed hard on the counter. A lifetime ago, he had finally killed the Autobot leader in battle. The pride of that feat was the one joy left to him. But now, that too was gone; Prime was back, somehow resurrected like Megatron was, and undoubtedly leading the Autobots who kept his own troops running like whipped cowards.

Controlling his fury, Megatron read on. For a while, the Autobots were led by Rodimus Prime, an inexperienced commander who first appeared at the battle with Unicron. Megatron angrily cursed the Fates for keeping him away during that time-he was certain that he could have exploited Rodimus' weaknesses to the Decepticons' gain. Galvatron's failure to do so reinforced Megatron's low opinion of his predecessor.

After skimming a few more entries, he stopped, unable to bear any more. It had taken the Decepticons millions of years to push the Autobots to the brink of extinction. Yet between Unicron and Galvatron, the Autobots had regained everything in less than three. The situation was now as it was eons ago, when the Decepticons were only a small cabal that dreamed of total conquest.

Megatron clenched his fist and growled quietly. I'll destroy the Autobots yet, even if it takes me another six million years to do it!

His body relaxed as he regained control. Now was not the time to rant; the immediate problems of the Decepticons had to be corrected. Foremost among them was their meager numbers-there was absolutely no way he could conquer Cybertron with only a few hundred warriors. And unlike before, there were no neutral Transformers he could recruit to his cause. No, any new Decepticons would have to come from somewhere else.

Inspiration struck. Recalling something he had read, Megatron quickly turned to the computer and worked with renewed energy...

* * *

Optimus Prime stared silently out of the bay windows of the conference hall. A passing spectator might have guessed that the Autobot leader was pondering some great new plan, and tiptoed past to avoid disturbing him.

In actuality, Prime was in reflection. Vague feelings of anxiety and doubt had bothered him of late, though he was usually too busy with his various duties to focus on them. Now, though, he had a few moments between meetings and reviews, and took the opportunity for some relaxing introspection.

The view outside was of Cybertron's sunless, perpetual night. The black sky was tinged a dark blue, lit by both the bronze hue of the planet's metallic surface and the shining lights of the surrounding city of Iacon. The lights of a roving groundcar or airship lent a touch of movement to the scene. From an aesthetic standpoint, it was a classic scene of a tranquil technological utopia.

I should be feeling peaceful, Prime thought. Yet I have nothing but fear. As if this will all disappear in a moment.

He tried to remember the last time he had seen the world at rest like this, and realized that it was, literally, millions of years ago. He was not concerned about age; Transformers were practically immortal, and died only through accident or murder. Instead, Prime realized that most of his memories of Cybertron were related to war in all its myriad ways. Perhaps that is what bothers me. Perhaps I cannot accept this tranquillity because of my past experiences.

The Decepticons did not appear to be a problem. Galvatron and his forces were last seen fleeing after the incident with the Plasma Energy Chamber, a scheme which ended up recharging Cybertron's core. And while there were rumors that Galvatron was rescued, there had been absolutely no Decepticon activity since then. Though the Autobots could not spy on Charr directly, it was as if the Decepticons had simply given up their dreams of conquest and laid dormant.

Even if that is true, there are other dangers. Though dead, Unicron remained a vivid nightmare to all Transformers. Neither Autobot nor Decepticon, the planet-sized giant simply appeared out of nowhere one day with a mysterious determination to eradicate Cybertron and everyone on it. Only the prophetic use of the Autobot Matrix of Leadership had destroyed Unicron and saved them all.

But now the Matrix was empty, its power and knowledge released to eliminate a "hate plague" that had threated the universe. Without the Matrix, what can save Cybertron if another Unicron-like menace were to appear?

It seemed a very possible threat. For example, Unicron himself was supposedly created by an alien called Primacron. Though Primacron's laboratory was destroyed along with his latest creation, Toritron, Primacron remained free to do as he pleased. Then there were the Quintessons, a group of beings who claimed to be the creators of Cybertron and the Transformers race. Their various schemes to reclaim their wayward property were known to Autobot and Decepticon alike.

Yet both of these fronts refused to show any signs of danger. Autobot survey patrols continued to report that Primacron's latest works were low-key efforts that did not pose any threat. And the enigmatic Quintessons had not been seen nor heard from in a long time.

Are these problems that have finally been laid to rest? Or is this the calm before the storm? Prime fought the temptation to slip into paranoia, though strange omens seemed abundant. Unicron's head, which had orbited Cybertron after his destruction, exploded mysteriously a few weeks ago. Perceptor guessed it was either a delayed self-destruct or an asteroid collision, but now Prime wondered if it was part of something deeper.

A small chime came from outside of the chamber. It was time for another meeting, this one to discuss plans for the restoration of the Cybertronian Art and Culture Council. Prime ended his reverie and returned his thoughts to the present as the doors opened.

* * *

The unnamed planet was mostly feral. Choppy orange seas lapped at dense jungles filled with dangerous plants and animals of all sorts. The city of Quint was the only sign of civilization present. Electric fences and armed patrols kept the wilderness at bay, but no real effort was made to expand. One got the impression that the inhabitants had better things to do than taming the world.

In Quint, the most opulent, most prominent, and most important structure was the High Court. Twisting, bizarre spires of silver and gold stretched far into the sky, while oversized doors accommodated visits from unknown titans. Normally, the High Court was where the rulers of Quint passed final judgment on all matters.

Today it was a charnel house.

Megatron strode proudly into the Court chamber, silently savoring the chaotic sights and smells of conquest. A crude path had been cleared for him, flanked by the bodies of thousands of inert Sharkticons. Scattered among their smoking forms were various Quintesson officials and staff-here a reptilian-faced Officer, there an armored Bailiff-all as dead as the Sharkticons themselves.

With measured steps, Megatron slowly crossed the room. Against the far wall were three surviving Quintesson Magistrates. Their inverted egg-shaped forms bobbed lightly on force beams, their slender green tendrils waving in rampant fear. Occasionally one of the Magistrate would spin, looking at the carnage with another of its five mechanical faces. They were surrounded by Scourge and three of his Sweeps, who were ready to fire in an instant if one tried to attack or escape.

Megatron knew better. From his study of the Decepticon profiles on the Quintessons, he had correctly deduced that they were nothing but weak cowards, better suited for scheming than fighting. Why Galvatron had let them remain a nuisance for so long was yet another sign of his incompetence.

He stopped before the Quintessons and glowered down at them. The Magistrates quivered, unable to retreat and cowed into silence. Finally Megatron sneered, "You pathetic fools. Did you really think your miserable forces could stand against me?"

The rightmost Magistrate spun quickly, stopping with a click, then said, "The Sharkticons-"

"Silence!" Megatron's fusion cannon came up and flashed brilliantly. The Quintesson crashed against the wall, then fell dead in a smoldering heap, a large black hole between its eyes.

Megatron addressed the two survivors. "Your forces are finished! My Decepticons have already rounded up the remaining Judges and Magistrates. Even now my Predacons and Terrorcons are idly hunting the last Sharkticons for sport. If you wish to stay functional, you will show all the respect you can muster! Do you understand?"

The Magistrates spun to new faces, looked to each other, then turned to Megatron and bowed their bodies submissively.

"Better," Megatron growled.

The first one spoke, in a humbled hiss, "What will happen to us?"

Megatron smiled condescendingly, as if explaining the obvious. "You will all begin working immediately to build me a new army of Decepticon warriors."

There was a moment's silence. Then, with slow reluctance, the second said, "We cannot."

"What?" Megatron bellowed. "How dare you refuse?"

The first replied. "We do not refuse." Spin, click. "But only-"

The Magistrate stopped suddenly. Suspicious, Megatron leaned over, glaring deep into his soulless eyes, and growled, "Only what?"

"Don't!" the second cried.

"We must!"

"But you can't--!"

"We have no choice!"

There was a moment's pause. Then, "Yes. You're right."

Megatron fumed angrily as the first Quintesson spoke again. "We cannot do as you ask because only Justice has the secret of creating life."

"We can build the bodies," the second reluctantly explained, "but programming the personalities is something only she knows how to do."

Megatron frowned. "Who ... is Justice?"

Spin, click. "She is the guiding force of all Quintessons. She leads us in times of need."

From the left, Scourge remarked, "Great. Religious nuts."

Megatron ignored him. "Take me to her."

There was another hesitant pause, but the fury on Megatron's face allowed no room for dissention. So the two Quintessons led their Decepticon captors out of the chamber and down a spiraling ramp, deep into the bowels of the planet. They traveled for several minutes in silence, their way illuminated only by faint glow-rods along the walls. Finally, the party reached bottom. Without any ceremony, the seven passed through an unadorned arch into a dimly-lit room.

In the center was a small circular console covered with various keyboards, controls, and two-dimensional video monitors. Operating them was a small humanoid figure, barely four meters tall. The being's features consisted of a metallic head, silvery-gray in color, triangular in shape and with rounded facial features. At first, her body appeared to be draped in a flowing green cloak, but then Megatron noticed that it was actually composed of hundreds of thin, green tendrils.

She glided from behind the station on a beam of orange light and approached the Decepticons, easily dwarfed by them. "Welcome, Megatron," she said. Her voice was a soothing three-part harmony, slightly melodic. "I am Justice." Her tentacles rippled with each word.

The first Quintesson bowed slightly, then spin-clicked to a new face. "He is here for-"

"I know why he is here," Justice said. "Magistrates, leave us. I must talk to the Decepticons alone."

The two Quintessons began to move, but the Sweeps blocked their path. They looked to Megatron, who turned to Justice. "They can't leave."

"They will not escape," she said simply.

Megatron stared intently at her for a moment. He then nodded to the Sweeps, who stepped aside. The Magistrates quickly zipped away.

"Now," Megatron said, "What do you have to tell me?"

"The history of the Quintessons."

Megatron growled slightly. "You're trying my patience."

"Then I shall be brief," Justice countered. "Know that the Quintessons are not from this region of space. They once lived in a remote corner of the galaxy, on a paradise world created by their ancestors. They are very intelligent in science and engineering , but they possess one fatal flaw: they are incapable of any initiative.

"That was why I was created. Not only do I protect the Quintessons, but I also give their lives meaning and guidance. I do not rule in a way you understand, but I serve them as their authority. So long as I gave them tasks to perform, they were happy and my purpose was complete."

Megatron was repulsed at the idea of such a stagnant lifestyle. Unaware, Justice continued, "The Quintesson home world was destroyed when its sun went nova. Before that occurred, I instructed them to build a space ship so that we could flee the disaster. They slept in stasis while I flew the ship in search of a new home.

"We arrived countless years later, on a planet which I named Quintessa, in memory of our old home. But it lacked the resources to maintain the life style that the Quintessons were accustomed to."

She paused for a moment, as if recalling a hazy memory. "I was aware that a planet of robots was nearby. A search of the computers explained that it was Cybertron, and revealed detailed schematics and plans. That was when I awoke the Quintessons. I told them of ancient history, where their ancestors were the original creators of Cybertron. And I told them that I had returned them here to reclaim it.

"So pleased, they then filled their days with schemes to conquer the planet. Even the destruction of Quintessa did little to deter their enthusiasm. We would have continued with our designs for many years if you had not arrived."

Megatron stood in silence. When it was clear that Justice was finished, he asked, "What does this have to do with building my army of Decepticons?"

Justice's tendrils shimmered suddenly. "The Quintessons are not the creators of Cybertron."

"What?!"

Justice bowed her head. "It is a lie of my making. It ... it seemed to be a good idea at the time. It gave them something to strive for. Whether they succeeded or not was irrelevant. All that mattered was that they were content and preoccupied."

"But..." Scourge paused, then tried again. "If they didn't ... then they don't know how to create new ones."

Justice nodded. "We can make the bodies. But without that indefinable spark of life, that which you call a 'personality program,' they can never be anything more than simple automatons. The Sharkticons are the best we can do, and they are nothing more than mindless simpletons."

"Then you're useless to me!" Megatron yelled. His arm snapped forward, the fusion cannon ready to strike.

"Wait!" she cried. "Take us!"

"What?"

Justice's next words came forth with an effort. "...Let us serve you. We cannot give you new Decepticons, but we can still provide you with armament, equipment, support, and repairs. I have but to say it, and all of the Quintessons shall be yours to command."

Megatron watched her suspiciously. Slowly, he asked, "How can I trust you?"

"I am incapable of deceiving you. It is better for the Quintessons to live a life of servitude for you than to be exterminated now. My design binds me to this."

There was another, longer moment of silence. Then his arm lowered as the cannon's charge dissipated. "Very well, Justice ... From now on, you and your people are mine, to do with as I please. But I warn you-any sign of betrayal, and I'll kill all of you without a second thought."

"I understand."

Megatron nodded and softly said, "There's still the problem of restoring the Decepticon army. I have but one alternative remaining ... and I believe you may be of use there..."

* * *

From space, the metallic sphere of Cybertron offered all of the signs of an advanced civilization. City lights twinkled on and about its multilayered surface, while the gentle glow of the inner core bespoke of tranquillity and power. Though it lacked oceans and vegetation, there was no longer any doubt that Cybertron was bearing life.

Yet that was a small lie. Once, before the Autobot/Decepticon conflict ravaged the planet, Cybertron easily supported a population of several billion mechanoids. But with the countless years of war, only a few thousand Autobots remain throughout the galaxy. Even the return of the "lost Transformers" from the once-secret colony of Paratron couldn't make up for the steady attrition of the long war. And so, Cybertron found itself with one of the lowest population density ratios in the known universe.

It was therefore not surprising that the Cyron Sector Datastore was almost devoid of people in the middle of the Cybertron "day." Only a handful of personnel were needed to run the Datastore, and they outnumbered the visitors who were present. No one minded. There were enough holocrystals and tapes that needed organizing to keep the attendants busy for years, and fewer guests made study and research easier.

The meditative quiet was shattered when the front doors erupted inwards. An instant later, Megatron dashed through the smoke and into the entry room with Soundwave and Cyclonus on his heels. An astonished receptionist, recovering from his initial shock, bolted out from behind the front desk. Cyclonus snap- fired his oxidating laser, sending a bolt through the runaway and killing him instantly.

Megatron smiled at Cyclonus' efficiency. Megatron was originally wary of a direct assault on the Autobots, realizing that safer and more subtle plans were possible. But he also recognized that Decepticon morale needed boosting, and the best way to do that was to wage a decisive victory over their enemies. Watching Cyclonus reaffirmed Megatron's confidence in his resolution.

The three worked in quiet precision. Cyclonus guarded the front entrance and Megatron watched for overconfident researchers while Soundwave's metal fingers flew across the keyboard of the receptionist's computer terminal. Less than two minutes later, his monotonic singsong voice announced, "The target has been found."

Megatron was by his side in a moment and beamed at the sight on the display. "Excellent! Now, find the nearest route."

With the press of a few keys, a cross-section map of Cybertron appeared in green, superimposed by two red dots and a fragmented line connecting them. "Information recorded," Soundwave announced.

Megatron stood up proudly. "Come, Decepticons. Our victory is near!" The three intruders dashed out of the Datastore, then leaped into the dark sky and flew off.

* * *

Optimus Prime was carefully studying two datapadds in front of him. They were reports on the benefits and drawbacks of restoring the Grand Hexacom Canal with imported water, and each one managed to successfully counter the other's arguments and conclusions. Thus it was with a little relief that Prime answered the beep of the message console.

Hot Rod appeared immediately on the screen. For a time he had been Rodimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and keeper of the Matrix after Optimus' death. With his return, Hot Rod had gladly relinquished the burden of leadership and resumed his carefree lifestyle. But the other Autobots recognized his potential, and Optimus had promoted him to the rank of field commander to encourage his talents. Hot Rod chafed slightly in the role, but all felt that all he needed was more time.

The agitation on his face did not bode well for the present. Steeling himself, Prime calmly asked, "What is it, Hot Rod?"

"We've got a report from the Cyron Datastore! The Decepticons just attacked, and they're led by Megatron!"

Prime leaped out of his chair. "What?" Quickly he asked, "What was taken? Where are they now?"

"They're on long-range radar, heading one-three-three mark six. Ultra Magnus is already leading a team after them. They didn't take anything, just did some data searches. Here's what they dug up."

The screen divided itself into four partitions, and Hot Rod's face shrank into the lower-left corner. Above him were a list of keyword search requests, which were next to an outlined list of selected entries. In the lower-right corner was the same cross-sectional map of Cybertron that appeared on the Datastore computer terminal minutes before. Optimus Prime stared in shock.

A nervous voice brought him back. "Prime? Prime! What's going on?"

Prime turned to Hot Rod's image. "How many Autobots are on standby?"

"Just Getaway and Scoop-"

"Radio Magnus, tell him the Decepticons are heading for the Delron Sar radio base. Then get them and meet me out front. Hurry!"

As Hot Rod began working at a set of off-screen controls, he asked, "Where're we going?"

Prime paused. "To Vector Sigma." He dashed out of the chambers as the console faded to black.

* * *

The three Decepticons flew quickly across the sky. Megatron was disoriented at first; the Cybertronian landmarks that were familiar to him were no longer present, as most had been rebuilt or restored by the Autobots. From high in the air, the buildings appeared to be mere playthings. How he wanted so much to tear out the useless museums and parks, the laboratories and conference halls, and replace them with factories and weapons batteries and assembly lines instead. To take Cybertron's untapped military potential and bring it to full bloom-the dream of a lifetime ago.

All in due time, he reminded himself. First things first.

Soundwave, flying on his right, pointed and announced, "We are approaching the target. Autobots interceding."

Megatron recalibrated his optics for a telescopic view and confirmed the assessment. Their destination was the Delron Sar communications outpost, an undistinguished small oval building in an open field and surrounded by several other structures. In front of it, armed and waiting, were two mechanoids-the giant gestalt Defensor, and Ultra Magnus.

"Cyclonus! Greet them!"

To Megatron's left, Cyclonus silently shifted into his jet mode. Dropping towards the ground, twin nuclear-powered turbines suddenly shrieked to life as the Decepticon blazed forth. In an instant, Cyclonus was on top of them. He roared by at MACH 2, ion cannons clearing the way as twin sonic booms rattled in his wake. Ultra Magnus could only dive out of the way, while the combined assault caused Defensor to stagger.

Megatron and Soundwave landed a moment later. "Only two Autobots? I'm insulted, Magnus!"

"Well, let's fix that!"

Megatron turned and ducked just as a green bolt blazed overhead. From a gully behind him, the Autobots Rad, Topspin and Arcee popped up, firing on the Decepticons. Megatron finished his roll and dashed into a nearby alley. He was joined by Soundwave seconds later, bolts and explosions in his wake.

"Give it up, Megatron!" Rad shouted as he fired his disrupter. "Get back to whatever scrap heap you crawled out of!"

Megatron replied with a blast from his fusion cannon. A crater erupted at the rim of the trench and sent Rad diving. He turned and shouted quickly, "Soundwave! Activate the signal and clean out that gutter trash! Cyclonus! Take the Autobots' front guard!"


Soundwave nodded and pressed a button on his shoulder. His chest door opened and a cassette shot out, unsnapping into the bestial shape of Ravage. With a snarl, the black panther robot hit the ground and ran across the field.

In the skies above, Cyclonus began a second run on Defensor, firing rapidly. But this time Defensor was ready: his force field snapped on, handily deflecting the attack even as he countered with a blast from his fireball cannon. Cyclonus banked hard to the right and dodged the blast, then climbed suddenly to avoid a swing from Defensor's gigantic fist.

Ravage leaped into the trench and tackled Arcee. As she fell, Rad's blaster leaped out of his hand and transformed into Lionizer, then pounced with a roar. Ravage leaped off his prey and eyed the challenger; in an instant, the two predators tore into each other in a haze of fang and claw. As Rad rushed to Arcee's side, he shouted, "Topspin! Surround 'em!"

Topspin jumped out of the trench and instantly doubled over into his sled mode. Rockets roaring, he arrived seconds later at the far end of the Decepticons' alley, snapped back to robot form, and began shooting at the besieged Decepticons. Soundwave turned and fired, but Topspin transformed again and drove off, avoiding the attack.

Megatron snarled as he ducked a blast from Ultra Magnus' laser rifle. In the background, Cyclonus was swarming around Defensor, nipping away with his guns while dodging the other's massive swipes. The situation was degenerating faster than he expected, and Megatron began to wonder if he was betrayed.

The communications outpost exploded violently as a thick red beam lanced out of the sky and struck it. The shockwave sent Cyclonus twirling away, and Autobots and Decepticons alike fell to the ground. Before anyone could recover, a dark blue airship dropped out of the sky and landed on top of the newly-formed crater, the Decepticon sigil on its side clearly visible.

Ultra Magnus scrambled to his feet, then transformed into his car-carrier form and drove off as a set of double doors on the side of the craft slid open. A menagerie of robotic beasts poured forth, followed by Sixshot, Triggerhappy, and a Quintesson Magistrate.

Megatron fired at Magnus, who swerved sharply to avoid the blast, then overturned and tumbled into the ditch. Ignoring him, Megatron ran towards the ship and yelled, "Decepticons! Secure the area!"

Sixshot eagerly fell to the ground and transformed himself into a high-speed tank as Triggerhappy jumped up and folded into his blue jet form. The two berserkers charged the trench, weapons firing madly. "C'mon, Autobots!" Sixshot yelled, "Today's a good day to die!"

Hun-grrr's twin heads cried in a guttural chorus, "Terrorcons, unite!" In unison, the five monsters leaped into the air, their bodies twisting and folding with measured precision. They joined together seconds later to form the golem called Abominus.

He roared once, then lumbered over and reached for Defensor's prostrate form. The Autobot combiner lashed out suddenly with his legs, sending Abominus stumbling aside. Defensor scrambled to his feet and charged. The two crashed together and began exchanging savagely brutal blows, and the ground shook with each step.

Megatron shouted more orders as he reached the base of the ship. "Soundwave, recall Ravage and Cyclonus! Predacons, Quintesson, to me! Scorponok, you fool! What kept you?"

The massive green and purple scorpion unleashed a blinding arc of electricity on the fleeing Autobots. "We needed to confirm the target. You wouldn't want us to blast the wrong building, would you?" Though Scorponok's face wasn't visible, the mirth in his tone was obvious.

Megatron scowled. "We'll discuss this later. Soundwave! The entrance!"

Soundwave pointed to a remote corner of the crater. Razorclaw leaped with a snarl, then gutted open the spot in an instant to reveal an underground passage. As Cyclonus landed, Ravage leaped into his cassette form and slid into Soundwave's chest compartment.

Megatron and his team descended into the depths of Cybertron, quickly leaving the sounds of the battle far behind.

* * *

The corridor before them forked into three paths. Lamps probed briefly into each choice, but revealed nothing.

"Which way?" Hot Rod asked.

Optimus Prime concentrated for a moment. Then, responding to the guiding instinct of the Matrix, he said, "Right."

The Autobots sprinted down the rightmost passage. Their urgency was tempered only by the twisting corridors and numerous forks throughout the subterranean infrastructure. The stale air and thick layers of dust everywhere was proof that no one had traveled this way in eons.

They stopped at another intersection that branched to the left and right. Everyone turned to Prime, who quietly announced "Left."

A bend, a downward slope, and another bend led them to a large rectangular chamber. It was filled with over a hundred green robots, each impressively large and with a single, emotionless yellow eye. They stood in military file formation, oblivious to the Autobots.

"What are they?" Getaway asked.

"Guardians," Prime said. "But they appear to be deactivated."

"Is that bad?"

"It is ... odd. They're supposed to guard Vector Sigma from intruders."

"Uh oh," Scoop said.

Hot Rod spoke next. "You think Megatron's gotten to Vector Sigma already?"

"I have felt nothing in the Matrix," Prime said. "But I don't know if I would feel anything at all."

Hot Rod began examining one of the Guardians. "Can we activate them?"

Getaway ran to his side and the two quickly opened an access panel. He peered in, then said, "No way, kid. The power core's completely drained. You'll need a repair shop to get it going again."

Scoop took a glance at the opening. "That's odd. That's a hyperquantum core. Those things never drain if it has time to recharge between uses."

"You mean the robots have been activated recently?" Hot Rod asked.

"Only if someone's been down here."

"Unlikely," said Prime. "These passages have not been used in years. And no attacker would leave the Guardians in an organized formation."

Getaway nodded. "Then what drained 'em?"

"I don't know. In any case, the Guardians are useless to us. We must continue."

In agreement, the Autobots dashed out of the room.

* * *

Soundwave took the lead, using his sensors to detect the unique electronic "signature" of their objective. They traveled in silence, except for an occasional comment from the Predacons; the lack of anything to fight made them easily irritable.

"How much farther?" Rampage snarled. "We've been walking forever, my nose itches, I hate this place, grrrawwwnawlll!"

Tantrum chimed in, "All you do is complain! Why can't you fight as well as you talk?"

"Quiet!" Razorclaw snapped over his shoulder.

"No!" Headstrong shouted. "Why should I be quiet? You're always ordering us around-"

"I'm the Predacon leader!"

"-and not doing a good job of it," Divebomb snipped.

"Better him than you," said Tantrum.

"I should be leader!" Rampage said. "I'll tear into those Autobots, rip out their wires, bust a move, kick the can, urrrghsnarf!"

Divebomb said, "You're a babbling idiot!"

"Look-"

"Shut up!"

"What makes you think you can-"

"-be quiet!"

"I don't want to-"

"Silence!" Megatron's roar cowered the Predacons into submission. Satisfied, they resumed marching.

The murky dimness of their travel was broken by a warm glow from a room up ahead. They stopped in the doorway and looked in. It was a massive, round chamber, several hundred meters in diameter with a curved floor and ceiling. In the center of the floor was a small pedestal. Floating slightly above it was a crystalline yellow sphere, covered with a thousand tiny facets. It glowed with a warm, amber light, the only source of illumination in the room.

"Vector Sigma," Megatron breathed. "The mega-computer that is the source of all Transformer life."

The Decepticons quickly stepped in and approached it. On Razorclaw's silent cue, the Predacons transformed and combined into Predaking. Megatron, Cyclonus, and Soundwave led the Quintesson over to Vector Sigma, who began to carefully study the artifact.

"Hmmm. Broadcast power." Spin, click. "Crystalline encoding." Spin, click. "Nanocircuitry." Spin, click. "Fascinating. I wonder how it works?"

"That doesn't matter," Megatron replied. "Can you do it?"

"Creating a new Key to activate it is simple enough." Spin, click. "A mere matter of completing and powering the interface circuit. But removing this computer will take some time." Spin, click. "If you simply tried to take it, there is a 94.28% probability it will be destroyed. But yes, it can be done."

"Then do it. We have all the time that you'll need."

The Magistrate nodded then began to work, his tentacles playing lightly over the surface of Vector Sigma. Megatron smiled with the thrill of anticipation.

* * *

Arcee ran down the alley, away from the battlefield. Defensor had fallen moments ago, and Abominus was beginning to look for the other Autobots. Her plan was to hide in the far end of the building, then double back and catch the gestalt by surprise from the rear.

(Duck!)

She obeyed immediately, diving for the ground even as a searing bolt of heat flashed above her. Thanks, Daniel she replied as she scrambled back up. Once, to save Daniel Witwicky's life, Arcee had undergone the Nebulan's binary-bonding procedure and became a HeadMaster. Their two personalities were merged, and the young boy acquired the ability to turn into the head of her robot form.

Since then, the two have been the closest of friends. At rest, his optimism uplifted her even as her wisdom tempered the rashness of his youth. In combat, they worked with a unique synchronization system that gave them faster reflexes and better coordination than other, unaugmented Transformers.

Sixshot roared overhead in his star fighter mode. "Lucky, girlie! But I'll get you yet!" He shifted to his armored carrier form and landed in the far end of the alley, then barreled full speed towards her. Arcee whipped out her laser pistol and fired, but the shot bounced harmlessly off the Decepticon's sloped armor.

(We're trapped!)

No we're not! In an instant, Arcee changed plans and charged towards Sisxhot's onslaught. His concussion blasters fired in response, but she sidestepped them with effortless grace under Daniel's control.

Just before impact, Arcee leapt. She grabbed onto Sixshot's roof with her free hand while Daniel brought her into a tuck and roll. Surprised, Sixshot barreled out of the alley, then went into a fishtail reverse even as he began to transform into ramming tank mode.

But Arcee and Daniel were ready. As she concentrated on maintaining her grip, Daniel quickly found an area temporarily exposed by Sixshot's transformation process. Then they switched roles, Daniel holding on while Arcee shoved her laser inside and fired a full-powered burst.

Sixshot yelled in violent agony and lost control. Only then did Arcee let go and tumbled to the ground. Sixshot spun out and slammed into Abominus' leg. The giant staggered briefly before falling, flattening the Linguistics Center in the process.

(We did it!)

Arcee's response was choked out as a massive purple claw snatched her off the ground. Scorponok's voice gloated, "Impressive, Autobot! Too bad you won't live to enjoy your little achievement!" She fought back a cry of pain as his grip tightened and her vision turned dark.

"Unhand her, you fiend!"

A bright red fireball fell out of the sky, striking Scorponok in the side. He stumbled suddenly, flinging Arcee through the air in the process. But before she had time to panic, a pair of metal talons snatched her with surprising speed and gentleness.

"Swoop!"

"Sky Lynx fight good, but Swoop, me catch gooder!" the robotic pterodactyl said proudly.

Arcee and Daniel smiled, savoring the relief it brought. Swoop quickly lowered her to the ground, then said, "You okay, Arcee. Now me help Dinobots!" Without waiting for a reply, he took off to join his companions, who were mercilessly pounding Abominus with a nasty combination of fire, energy, and brute force.

Nearby, Sky Lynx had separated into his dragon and lynx forms, using both to keep Scorponok staggered with a two-pronged attack. The white dragon circled overhead and launched another fireball. "Your brutish tactics are-"

Scorponok dodged the attack, only to have the blue lynx ram him in the side. "-no match for my superior powers!"

The blow sent Scorponok tumbling into the side of the Decepticon craft. He quickly transformed to robot mode, then brutally cuffed the lynx away as it pounced a second time. "Prattling idiot!" Dodging another fireball from the dragon, Scorponok produced his gun and quickly fired on Abominus and Sixshot. Their bodies began floating upwards as Scorponok ran into the ship.

With a thundering roar, the engines came to life and it quickly climbed away from Cybertron. Two amber beams latched on to the floating Decepticons while Triggerhappy wobbled through the open hatch. It snapped shut, whereupon the ship blasted away with its subjects in tow, quickly disappearing against the dark skies.

Arcee dashed towards the remains of the comm center, where Ultra Magnus was assembling the Autobots. Roadbuster was chatting with Hardhead when he saw her approach. "Great shooting, Arcee!"

"Thanks, but I had help."

Sky Lynx's two halves had rejoined, and now he returned to the others. "Yes, you did. Fortunate that I was there to rescue you from that Decepticon thug!"

"Me Swoop, me helped too!"

Arcee turned as Ultra Magnus addressed the crowd. "The danger's not over yet, people! Megatron's still down there, and Prime's going to need our help."

"Right, Magnus!" Hardhead snarled. "Let's get down there and kick chrome!"

"Exactly! Sky Lynx, you and the Dinobots stay up here and make sure the Decepticons don't get away. The rest of us are going down."

"Have no fear, Magnus," Sky Lynx said. "With my leadership skills, even this simplistic rabble is more than enough to keep Megatron trapped!"

"Who you call 'rabble'?" Grimlock demanded.

Sludge asked, "What means 'rabble'?"

"Me Slag not sure, but think it not good."

Sky Lynx moaned, "Matrix save me! This may tax even my infinite patience!"

As she followed the other Autobots into the tunnel, Arcee and Daniel shared a silent laugh.

* * *

Quickly, Optimus Prime stole a glance into the other room. He snapped back an instant later as a blue-white bolt of energy flew out the doorway and struck the opposite wall of the corridor.

A voice from the other room taunted, "Give it up, Prime! You can't stop us!"

"We're going to try anyway, Megatron!"

"Then you'll die trying!" Another blast flew by, creating another explosion.

He may be right, Prime thought. Quite simply, the Autobots had arrived too late. Megatron and his forces were busy doing whatever they wanted with Vector Sigma, and the Autobots were helpless to stop them.

Getaway scrambled down the hall and slid to a stop next to Prime. "No luck!" he whispered. "That's the only way in or out of there!"

"What about access panels or ventilation shafts?"

Getaway shook his head. Prime expected as much, but needed to ask anyway.

There was a clatter from down the hall. The Autobots turned as one and were rewarded with the sight of Ultra Magnus and his team. "Prime! What's going on here?"

"Megatron is in there with Vector Sigma. Predaking's guarding the entrance, and his force field protects them from our attacks."

"And that's the only way in," Hot Rod added. His face clearly reflected the frustration he felt. As do we all, Prime realized.

"What is he doing with it?" Arcee asked.

"We don't know," Getaway said.

"Does it matter?" Roadbuster said. "Whatever it is, it won't be good for our health."

As if in reply, the Quintesson Magistrate suddenly cried out, "I have it!"

"Perfect! Begin immediately!" Megatron replied. "Prime! Are you listening to me? Soon, I'm going to take away your precious Vector Sigma. Then I'll create an army of Decepticons and obliterate you once and for all!"

A chill ran through Prime's body as he imagined the consequences: countless Decepticons, all with the guile and talent to conquer the entire universe. He berated himself for not realizing the importance of Vector Sigma and taking steps to protect it. How could I have been so blind?

Just as quickly, he put the thoughts aside. Now was not the time for self- abuse, but for unerring action. Prime turned to the others. "Autobots! We have no choice left. Our only hope to stop Megatron now is to charge in and fight them directly."

"That's suicide!" Getaway said. "They'll shoot us as soon as we step through!"

"I know. But we have no choice. We must do anything to prevent Vector Sigma from falling into Megatron's hands. Even if we destroy Vector Sigma and ourselves in the process, he must be stopped!"

Prime looked to the others. They were worried and anxious and scared, and with good reason; but none of them were refusing. The Autobots knew what was being asked and knew that the cause was just, so they were prepared to give their lives for it.

Finally, Roadbuster said, "Might as well go fighting." Weapons ready, they braced for the attack.

Without a word, Prime charged into the room. Predaking reacted instantly and fired his X-ray laser. The blast caught Prime in his chest and slammed him against the wall.

Before Predaking could fire again, Hot Rod charged in, his discharger rifle shots intercepted by the force field. Predaking's next blast caught him in the leg as a shot from Cyclonus hit him in the arm. He fell as Ultra Magnus pushed forward; Magnus fired both shoulder rockets, but they, too, exploded harmlessly against the shield. The Autobots continued to pour into the room even as the Decepticons mowed them down.

Fighting a burning pain in his circuits, Prime raised himself and fired. His rifle caught Megatron in the side and sent him staggering, but the Decepticon leader didn't fall. Prime rolled away in time to avoid a burst from Megatron's fusion cannon. Around them, the pitch of battle grew rapidly.

A chilling scream filled the room.

Everyone stopped and turned. All five of the Magistrate's faces were twisted in agony, a dozen green tentacles locked tightly around the crystal sphere.

Vector Sigma flared violently. Red bolts of energy burst from its thousand facets, slashing around the room and striking Autobot and Decepticon alike. The scream stopped suddenly as the Quintesson was vaporized.

The amber glow of Vector Sigma turned orange as it floated upwards. Prime slowly stood, watching it with fear and trepidation. The other combatants were also affected, unable to turn away and unwilling to move. It continued to climb, taller than Predacon, stopping only when it reached the ceiling.

With a roar of rushing air, Vector Sigma exploded.

There was no fire nor heat, just an inescapably brilliant white light that flooded the chamber. It was a radiance bright enough to wash away all details, all lines, all divisions and distinctions. Pure enough to seek out the blackest night, the deepest pit, the darkest hour ... and light it.

An instant later, the brightness coalesced in the center of the chamber, drawing color and substance as it formed. An image formed-the face of a giant mechanoid, which filled the chamber and peered down on them with a look of bemusement. A face of purest steel, surrounded by a shining helm of purple and red and gold. Inlaid circuitry, barely visible, laced its cheeks and brow. And dark, deep-set eyes, filled with the same pure brilliance that shone moments ago.

He addressed them slowly, with measured words and a voice of infinite patience. //The Moment Has Arrived.// Turning to Megatron, the face continued, //You Are Free Of The Other. Only Now Can You Be Made Complete.//"Who are you?" Megatron demanded, a touch of hesitation in his arrogance.

//I Am Primus.//

Optimus reeled. Primus was a name out of legend that lived on only in a few archaic colloquialisms and dusty myths. Even before the Autobot-Decepticon war began millions of years ago, Primus was an obscure name, almost forgotten and completely disregarded. Now, with the invocation of his name, long- dormant racial sentiments stirred in Autobot and Decepticon alike.

Primus continued, //Countless Trillions Of Years Ago, The Age Of The Gods Was Drawing To A Close. I Was The Last Of The Gods Of Light. My Task Was To Destroy The Chaos-Bringer, Unicron.////But He Was Stronger, Faster, And Better At Destruction. I Could Not Win By Force Alone. So I Used Treachery, Imprisoning Our Life Essences In Two Metal Planetoids. I Hoped The Threat Was Over.////Unfortunately, Over Time, Unicron Learned To Psionically Reshaped His Metal Prison. Able To Change Between Robot And Planet, He Resumed The Hunt.////I Fled Through Space, And Conceived Of A Plan.//
//I Reshaped Myself Into This World. I Populated It With Beings To Fight Him, And Made Them Able To Mimic His Abilities. Able To Turn Their Bodies Into Machinery, Vehicles, And Weapons. Able To Do What I Could Not. They Are The Last Line Of Defense Against Unicron.////They Are You. The Transformers.//

A silence filled the room. Optimus Prime himself felt no doubts; something fundamental within him responded to the story, and knew-somehow-that it was true. And with this knowing came a deeply satisfying sensation: of fulfillment, of meaning, of purpose.

Megatron shouted, "But Unicron is dead!"

//I Know.// Primus smiled lightly and turned to Hot Rod. //You Succeeded As I Had Hoped. You-All Of You-Proved Strong Enough To Defeat Unicron.//Hot Rod stood still, recalling his critical part in the final battle as he accepted the praise in silence. Recognition from a god is rare indeed, Optimus realized.

Defiantly, Megatron shouted again. "How do we know you're telling the truth?"

//Your Will Is Strong, Megatron,// Primus acknowledged. //I Tell You This Only Because My Time Approaches. There Is No Longer A Need To Keep You Blinded, And You Deserve The Truth.////It Was Necessary For Me To Remain Hidden To Teach You Self-Reliance. But I Interceded Only On The Rarest Occasions. I Guided The Quintessons To Satisfy Curiosity Over Your Origins. I Altered Primacron's Memory To Motivate Him To Create Toritron, So Your Factions Could Learn To Work Together. But Most Of The Time, I Remained A Passive Observer.//

Megatron remained immobile, staring intently at Primus. But while his expression never changed and his body never wavered, it was clear to all that the fire of challenge in him slowly died, and he accepted Primus' words.

//Optimus Prime. I Sense You Have A Question Of Your Own.//

Prime nodded. Slowly, reverently, he simply asked, "Why a war?"

Primus frowned for the first time. Several long seconds passed before he responded. //My Powers Are Not Limitless. I Could Not Tell What Traits Were The Best To Defeat Unicron, So I Gave Them All To You. I Had Anticipated Some Disagreement In Your Order, But Not A War Of Such Magnitude.//

//Perhaps It Was Inevitable That You Would Be Divided. Yet The Conflict Had Its Uses, For It Honed Your Skills And Brought Out The Best In You. But Now The Crisis Is Over; Your War No Longer Has Purpose.//

Primus paused for a long moment, lost in his unfathomable thoughts. Then he finally said, //That Will Come At A Time Of Your Choosing. Remember That Neither Side Is Right. There Is A Place For Strength And Weakness, For Compromise And Determination, For Mercy And Ruthlessness. They Are All Pieces Of The Whole.//

The frown disappeared, and he addressed the assembly once more. //Now I Must Set You Free, And Let You Find Your Own Destiny. To Do This, I Release Your Final Dependence On Me. Optimus Prime And Megatron: To You, I Give The Gift Of Life.//

Two prismatic bolts shot out of Primus' eyes. They struck Megatron and Prime silently, then simply vanished.

Primus smiled once more. //Farewell, My Children. We Shall Meet Again.//

At those words, the chamber was again flooded with a roar and an inescapably brilliant white light. It faded away an instant later. Of Autobots, Decepticons-and gods-nothing remained.

* * *

Megatron stepped into his room with a feeling of satisfaction. There was a moment of confusion when the Decepticons found themselves back on Charr. But Megatron quickly seized the moment and immediately began ordering the Quintessons to build the next generation of Decepticons.

Now things were turning out as he had hoped. The new warriors he had imprinted were already proving themselves on the testing grounds. Eagle Eye and Windrazor's unscrupulous attitudes showed promise, while Afterburner had a subtle depth Megatron appreciated. Terradive, on the other hand, was pure brute force-which was just fine with Megatron.

Creation was so simple: he simply had to touch the lifeless body, and it would instantly be, ready to obey and fight and kill. Yet there were limits; after Windrazor was "born," Megatron sensed that the power was gone, and that he needed to wait before he could create again. He accepted that, and ordered the Quintessons to build more bodies until then.

Megatron had not wasted any of his time dwelling on the significance of Primus' words. His drive for conquest seemed unaffected, and that was fine with him. If there was a thing as destiny, then let him play out his role according to his feelings. The means didn't matter to him so long as the Decepticons conquered the Autobots in the end.

His thoughts now turned to less pressing matters. Scorponok's quick retreat from Cybertron was either an act of extreme cowardice or a treacherous hope that the Autobots would capture him. That, coupled with his delayed arrival on the battlefield, was enough to warrant some form of punishment...

* * *

Optimus Prime stared silently out of the bay windows of the conference hall. Behind him, some of the other Autobots continued to debate the ramifications and meaning of their encounter with Primus.

Hot Rod said, "I don't understand why he didn't just end the war."

"Maybe he feels that since we started the war ourselves, we have to finish it ourselves," Kup replied.

"It would have been nice if he did, however," Ultra Magnus added. "I almost get the feeling that he doesn't care about us, now that Unicron is destroyed."

Perceptor spoke next. "I have found nothing in the ancient texts to support that. Our archives contain very little literature on the ancient legends, but by the accounts of what I was able to ascertain, Primus was always depicted as a kind and merciful god."

"I wonder if he's still here. Vector Sigma may be gone, but for all we know, Primus is still around, and watching over us."

"You think he's controlling us again?" Hot Rod asked.

"I don't know. Primus said that he set us free, but we have no way to be sure. What if our acceptance is merely another aspect of his influence?"

"That is a circular argument," Perceptor said. "One can argue that the ability to question your freedom is sufficient evidence that you are free of Primus' influence. But then you can counter-argue that this freedom is completely imaginary, designed by Primus to give you the illusion of freedom."

"He's right," Hot Rod said. "You'll just get paranoid that way."

"What bugs me is how he gets off altering our memories," Kup drawled.

"Did you think he did?" Magnus asked.

"Of course, lad! Vector Sigma was sitting there all that time, and nobody thought about using it to its full extent. Just think: why didn't we create a million Autobots and end the war quickly?"

"But the key was destroyed-"

"Alpha Trion had the key for six million years, but he never thought about using it. When the Aerialbots destroyed it, no one even suggested making a replacement. The Matrix casing also activated Vector Sigma, but Prime didn't think about it either. So either we're all complete idiots-Autobots and Decepticons, mind you-or Primus was messing with our heads."

Hot Rod said, "So the vision I had, when I went into the Matrix and learned about the Quintessons creating the Transformers ... that was really Primus!"

"Yup. He fooled you, he fooled me, he fooled the Quintessons, the Decepticons, and everyone else."

The others nodded somberly. Magnus then said, "Prime? You've been very quiet all this time. What do you make of it?"

For a moment, Optimus Prime stood still. Then, as if with great reluctance, he said, "I'm worried for ourselves."

"What do you mean?"

There was a long, lingering silence. Finally, in a voice that was almost inaudible, he said, "Whatever his intentions ... if Primus is impassive enough to let the war continue, if he is willing to manipulate others, deceive them, control them for his own ends ... what does that say about us?"

No one had a satisfying answer.

The End

Tronus_Rex wrote:I'm not sure where to find a complete set of FF by Optimoos as at the time that I saved them, the final chapters had missing pieces. If anyone has the 100% complete sagas of Galvy & Cyclonus, I would appreciate reading it or being given a link.
...
If all these stories are still online, a link for myself and others would be much appreciated.

For those that have never heard of Cause of Madness & the follow up - Legacy, they are among the few truly well written FF TF stories from the 90's. I wasn't truly happy with G1 anything until DW & IDW comics which came years later...

I wanted to amend my statement about the not being happy by clarifying that I loved G1 & G2. I also loved Beast Wars & Beast Machines. Otherwise, anything G1/G2 that we few Transformer fan had were a few fanfics. In this regard I thought that 75% of what existed was crap. Much of the good stuff wasn't always completed due to writers becoming busy with work or just losing interest.

Anyway, I'm still hoping to find the complete "Adventures of Galvatron and Cyclonus" fanfic sagas, as these stories were some of the, best tongue-in-cheek, half parody, fictions I had ever read. Optimoose was the Author & they were even featured on a website by a Walkertron or Walkatron, lol! Not sure about the name anymore.

I will post the 1st part of "Legacy" - "Cause of Madness", tonight if anyone is interested. Robert Jung, wherever you and the other great TF FF authors from the 90's have gone, I hope you have all taken your imaginations in to places where you can make a living as "Mark Twain" put it about being a writer; "You'll never have to work a day in your life again..."

[Apologies to all, I thought I'd already posted this 2-3 weeks ago.]
{EDIT: 2900th post in 393 topics }

All characters depicted or mentioned in this story are the trademarks
and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that
aren't. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, is
coincidental, etc., etc. Geez, it's just a story, guys. Don't get too
uptight over it...

* * *

Once, they reigned.
The planet Cybertron, home of the mechanical beings known as the
Transformers, was finally united. Through sheer persistence and
ruthlessness, the ones known as Decepticons had beaten their foes and
established themselves as masters of the planet. Though the Autobot
resistance still survived, their numbers were few and their defeat was
imminent. Already, the Decepticons were planning to take their empire
to the stars.
Then came Unicron.
What he was and where he came from was undecided and irrelevant.
He cared not for the Autobot-Decepticon war. He merely wanted to
destroy Cybertron, to consume it as he had done to numerous worlds
before. It was just another step in his grand destiny, to eliminate all
life in the universe and leave nothing but chaos.
Countless Transformers died before Unicron fell. But the damage
was done; his attack had uprooted and ravaged the budding empire. The
few Decepticons that survived were scattered among the stars. The
Autobots returned and easily regained control of the planet.
Now the Decepticons are a tattered shadow of their former
selves. On the remote planet of Charr, they gather their numbers and
struggle to rebuild their power base. They know that, with the right
leadership, they may someday restore the glory of the Decepticon Empire.
Many wonder, however, if their current leadership will lead to
their downfall instead...

* * *

Trojan unplugged himself from the computer console and wearily
climbed out of his seat. He consulted his internal chronometers, then
blinked orange optics in surprise as he realized that he had spent close
to ten astro-hours on the net. <By the Matrix! No wonder I'm
exhausted!> He slowly meandered out of his quarters and headed for the
lounge.
In the corner was Dreadwind, sitting alone as usual. Without
waiting for an invitation, Trojan slid his slender gray-and-black frame
into the seat across from the PowerMaster. "Hello, Dread."
Dreadwind didn't bother to look up. "What's it to ya?" He idly
twirled the canister of liquid Energon in his hand and continued to
stare at it blearily.
Trojan suppressed a chuckle. Dreadwind was nobody's idea of
pleasant company, but Trojan enjoyed talking to him because his constant
gloom merely made his own troubles look mild by comparison. He sat
still, his silver face mask hiding the smile on his face, and waited
until Dreadwind spoke again. "Where have you been?"
"Pounding on the computer, as usual."
A grunt. "Does Galvatron really expect you to find a hole in
the Autobots' data net?"
Trojan chose his words carefully. "You never know. A lot of
their stuff's open air."
"Huh. Nothing important, though."
"No, nothing important," Trojan conceded. His black metal
fingers laced and unlaced as he continued, "But Galvatron said so, and
that's that."
Dreadwind grunted again, speaking volumes with one syllable. It
was no secret that the Decepticon leader was madder than a March hare,
with military planning no deeper than "OBLITERATE IT!" But none of the
Decepticons dared to defy him, much less overthrow him. He was paranoid
enough to spot any attempts at subversion, real or imagined, and his
laser cannon had the power to enforce his rule.
Worse, Galvatron's mental balance changed without warning;
periods of prudence and caution were offset by bouts of ranting and
madness. Only his willingness to delegate tasks to certain subordinates
kept the Decepticon army from total collapse, as his underlings were
smart enough to make wise choices that helped advance the cause. Even
so, their lack of trust and coordination, plus Galvatron's occasional
desire to take control, prevented any major gains.
Silence passed and the conversation quickly stalled. Trojan
looked up as Astrotrain entered the room, then waved to him.
Grudgingly, Astrotrain pulled up a chair and joined the two, subtly
sitting away from Dreadwind. "Hi, Trojan. Hello, Dreadwind. What's
going on?"
Dreadwind bobbed his head towards Trojan, who said, "Oh, just
talking about Galvatron a little."
"Oh, please," Astrotrain blurted, then clamped his mouth shut.
He glanced around the room, relaxed when he saw that no one had
overheard, then leaned forward slightly. "He's been making me run
patrols out near Serrius sector for the last six daycycles. Do you know
how DULL it is out there?"
Dreadwind took a drink, then wearily asked, "Patrols for what?"
"He says in case the Autobots are building a secret base. Well,
let me tell you, there ain't enough of anything out there to build a
toaster oven with, much less a base."
Trojan decided to steer the conversation away from dangerous
waters. "You know, back on Cybertron, I was out in Kelsar doing hack
work for Lord Thunderwing."
"Huh," Dreadwind snorted, "Thunderwing. He was a blow hard."
Trojan shrugged. Too many Decepticons had disappeared after the
"final battle;" anyone who hadn't found their way to Charr was simply
presumed dead. He continued, "I saw a lot of personnel records in my
duties, but I don't remember hearing of Galvatron before. I didn't even
know he existed until I got here."
Astrotrain tapped the table's surface. It lit up dimly,
displaying a list of recent news items and bulletins. He glanced over
the headers as he replied, "That's not surprising. Nobody ever saw
Galvatron, or Cyclonus, or the Sweeps until right before Unicron popped
up."
"Oh, yes?" Trojan leaned closer.
"Yeah." Astrotrain tapped the table again, and the surface
filled with a summary of recent Autobot activities gleamed from spy
patrols. "I first saw him when I got back from Cybertron. Megatron led
the invasion on Autobot City, on Earth, where he killed Optimus Prime."
Dreadwind grunted as Astrotrain continued, "But Megatron was
really dinged up from the fight, and I was low on fuel for the trip
back, so Starscream got him dumped in space. Then Starscream got
himself named as Decepticon leader -- I'm still not sure how -- and we
were at Warriors' Hall for his 'coronation ceremony'." Astrotrain
rolled his eyes at the memory.
Trojan nodded, his black helm bouncing slightly.
"Starscream was just starting to make a speech when Galvatron
and Cyclonus showed up. Starscream must have been really surprised or
something, because he got confused and thought it was Megatron at first.
Galvatron then blew him away like he was nothing."
"Heh," Dreadwind chuckled, and a brief smile flickered across
his face. "He had it coming."
"Yeah," Astrotrain shared in the smile. "Anyway, nobody wanted
to mess with that kind of power, so Galvatron became top 'con." His
voice dropped as he continued, "He wasn't loopy then, either. I didn't
get to see him much then, but you could sense that he was cunning and
merciless, the kind of Decepticon you could admire, you know? But I
think he lost it after Unicron was destroyed. I'm pretty sure those two
had something going."
Trojan asked, "Why do you say that?"
"Well, I remember something soon after Unicron chomped on one of
Cybertron's moons. We were all still at the Hall, and Galvatron shouts,
'No, Unicron! Cybertron and its moons belong to me!' Then he keels over
in pain, clutching his head, and Scourge says, 'We belong to him.'
Something like that."
"Hmmm."
"Anyway, Galvatron ran off and staged several attacks, but I got
reassigned and didn't see most of that. And after Unicron got blasted,
they found Galvatron lying face-down in a lava pool on Charr, just
burbling away. Never heard how he got there, but I'll bet that's the
reason we're on this rock right now." Astrotrain tapped the tabletop
again and the display winked out.
"Maybe he's attached to this place," Dreadwind mumbled into his
drink. He drained the last of it with a slow swallow.
"Yeah, well, he can get REALLY sensitive about Unicron. You
remember when Needlenose got knocked up in the infirmary last month?
That was because he had suggested to Galvatron about setting up an
outpost at Unicron's head, to make it easier to spy on the Autobots.
Nose didn't get in an accident; Galvatron did all that damage. They
said he was ready to tear the guy to pieces if Scourge hadn't butt in."
Trojan teased, "You make it sound like Galvatron's not fit to
lead."
"Hey, not me!" Astrotrain blurted loudly. "I'm just telling you
what I heard. That doesn't mean I believe in any of that stuff." He
glanced around once more, then continued, "Anyway, I have to go."
"I better be going as well," Trojan said as he rose. "I've got
to get back to work. Good-bye, Astrotrain. Good-bye, Dread."
"Mrmph."
As Trojan returned to his quarters, he pondered the situation.
He KNEW that he had never heard of Galvatron before Unicron. His
infallible memory banks had profiles of over fourteen thousand Autobots
and Decepticons, and detailed records for two thousand more. Galvatron,
Scourge, or Cyclonus should have been known to him long ago, but they
weren't. The Charr computers had no record of them, either. Trojan
trusted his skills implicitly, and knew that he had ferreted out every
hidden file and classified record in the (admittedly skimpy) Decepticon
system.
Trojan sat behind his desk again, and his right index finger
flipped forward to reveal a datalink cable. He plugged himself into the
computer and resumed "prowling" the Autobots' system. But even as he
worked, he knew that the only reason Galvatron's past could remain
unknown to him was because that data was never entered at all.
Astrotrain had provided him with a treasure trove of new information.
His curiosity thus piqued, Trojan had to know more.

* * *

Once, Cybertron had two moons. Smaller images of the parent
planet, the smooth metallic spheres had became one of the last refuges
for the fleeing Autobot forces. But then, like a gothic mockery of a
diner sampling aperitifs before a meal, Unicron had eaten the moons --
first Kron, then Gyruss -- prior to his attack on Cybertron itself.
The Fates would not have that, and Unicron was destroyed in an
explosion that some wags later called "the worst case of indigestion
ever." In a final twist of irony, his head was thrown into an orbit
around Cybertron, forming a new moon to replace the ones he had
destroyed. Now, Unicron's lifeless gaze fell on the planet, his visage
forever frozen in a look of shock and anger.
The current residents of Cybertron opted to keep the garish
satellite, both as a reminder of the battle and a monument to those who
died fighting it. But in keeping it, they also developed an unspoken
taboo; no Autobot would approach the Head of Unicron, at least not
willingly. Settling, exploring, or developing it was simply out of the
question. For the Decepticons, a certain fear about the head kept most
of them away from it also.
One exception approached Cybertron on a sweeping, indirect path,
the craft's low profile and black finish making it nearly invisible
against the void of space. Short and small, with a blunt nose up front
and a pair of slender delta wings jutting from the sides, it quickly
closed the distance, keeping the head between itself and Cybertron.
Only until the last moment did its course change as it skimmed the
surface closely, banking around the top before diving through Unicron's
shattered eye.
Reaching a suitable ledge, Trojan quickly transformed to his
robot mode. Wings folded into forearms, limbs unfolded to reveal gray
thighs, biceps, and abdomen, and the nose flipped open and retracted
down the back to uncover his face. Though he had never heard the term
"lanky," it suited him perfectly. His survival had always relied on
stealth, speed, and information rather than brute strength and
firepower, and for that, he preferred the agility in his current design.
Trojan's first steps were hesitant. He stopped and caught
himself, surprised that he was genuinely frightened. He had been on the
opposite side of Cybertron when Unicron attacked. By the time he
reached the surface, prudence prompted him to run, and Unicron's death
came after he was a safe distance away. Trojan realized now that this
was the closest he'd ever been to the Chaos-Bringer.
He stood still for several seconds, microphones and optics alert
for any signs of activity. When none came, his curiosity began to
supersede his fear. A lamp on his helmet lit up and he started
exploring.
<If Galvatron knew I was here,> Trojan thought, <he'd blow my
brains out.> He had left Charr on the premise to search for asteroids
near Cybertron that might be suitable for a computer/communications
monitoring center. A lie, but Galvatron had agreed.
Trojan relaxed considerably when it appeared that Unicron was a
mechanical construct. Buckled metal plates, snapped cables, exposed
electronics and dead sensors were all that he could see. Some
Transformers said that Unicron was the grand scheme of a mad scientist,
an instrument of pure destruction. Others preached that he was a force
of the universe, the mortal enemy of Primus, the spirit of Cybertron;
that he had adopted robot form in a mockery of the Transformers.
Trojan was one of the many who didn't care about theology or
origin theories. He was instead intrigued by the grand scope of it all
-- the engineering and coordination required to build anything like
Unicron was beyond belief. He peered casually through the wreckage,
regretting that he didn't have the scientific background to appreciate
what he was seeing. Instead, he went deeper into the head, looking for
something that he WOULD be familiar with.
He found it twenty minutes later in a large hexagonal room.
Dark video monitors filled four of the walls, two on each side of the
doorway. Across the room, opposite the wall Trojan entered through, was
an open bank of electronics. A quick search revealed his prize: a
printed circuit card, apparently used in data routing. Trojan's left
ring finger flipped open to reveal a metal clip. Taking an educated
guess, he attached the clip to a suitable part of the card and tried to
access the system.
Trojan's first surprise was that he found anything at all. He
had expected the network to be dead, and was prepared to spend some time
rigging a power system before he could actually read any information.
Instead, the familiar presence of packet streams and synchronous pulses
told him that some parts of the system were working. Trojan probed a
little deeper and was rewarded with a sensation of vastness -- countless
tetrabytes of data just waiting for him to plunder.
His second surprise came when a voice spoke. /...WHO.../
Trojan looked around in confusion. Had he imagined the voice?
Was it a recording? Slowly he stammered, "...hello?"
/WHO ... DARES?/
It was definitely not a recording. Trojan disconnected himself
and addressed the ceiling. "Unicron?"
Even in his disembodied and weakened state, the voice of Unicron
commanded awe, hinting at power beyond reckoning. /...YES.../
Trojan stopped, uncertain of how to phrase his next questions.
"I...thought you were dead...?"
/I ... FUNCTION. ... BARELY ... SOLAR COLLECTORS ... WHO ... ARE
YOU?/
"I, I, er, my name is Trojan."
/WHY ... ARE ... YOU ... HERE?/
Trojan sensed the effort Unicron placed into each word, and
figured that he was safe in Unicron's presence. <If he could have
stopped me, he would have done something by now.> Deciding to speak the
truth, Trojan replied, "I was looking for information about Galvatron."
The walls shuddered with a low bass rumble that quickly built to
a crescendo. Unicron's howl was an expression of unbridled anger and
fury that refused to be tempered. The room rocked from the volume, and
Trojan slammed his hands over his microphones to protect them, but he
could still feel it wash through his body and wrack his frame. Only
with great reluctance did the tsunami of vengeance died away.
Finally, Unicron spoke again, /WHERE ... IS ... HE ... NOW?/
Trojan told him, and soon the two talked for several hours, with
the Decepticon answering questions about recent events and Unicron
answering queries about Galvatron. It was a slow process, due to
Unicron's feeble state, but Trojan's thirst for knowledge gave him the
patience he needed. Unicron learned about the rise of the Autobots, the
fall of the Decepticons, and how Galvatron's leadership was even now
driving them to the brink of extinction.
In exchange, Trojan learned all about Galvatron's origins.
About how Unicron had found the dying forms of Megatron, Skywarp, and
several other Decepticons in the void of space, after they were
discarded on the trip back to Cybertron. About how Unicron had agreed to
give them new forms, as Galvatron and Cyclonus and Scourge and the
Sweeps, in exchange for their servitude. And about how Unicron
implanted pain receptors in Galvatron's braincase to ensure obedience.
They concluded that Galvatron's madness was induced by his
damage in the lava pools of Charr, where the heat must have left them
permanently activated. His insanity was thus caused by his constant
torment from the pain they inflicted, and his bouts of rationality
occurring only when he could ignore the pain.
Finally, Trojan asked the fateful question. "Is there a way to
cure him?"
The response was immediate. /NO./
Trojan sighed, his head bowed with thoughts of the future.
"Then the Decepticons are doomed."
/NO./
"What?"
/A SOLUTION ... EXISTS./
"But you said you couldn't cure him!"
/CANNOT CURE ... CANNOT REPAIR ... I HAVE ... ANOTHER ... IDEA./
"What? WHAT?!"
/FIRST ... YOU MUST ... HELP ME./

* * *

"Can you make them?"
"Of course we can!" Sledge boasted.
"Easily!" added Knockout.
Hammer said, "But you KNOW how dangerous this is?"
"Yes, I know," Trojan replied in exasperation. "That's why I
came to you."
Grit replied, "Well, just don't think that because the
Micromaster Constructor Squad is small, that we're also idiots!"
"Right," added Excavator. "If Galvatron knew what you were
asking, he'd fry you on the spot!"
"And throw us in for company!" Stonecruncher yelled.
"Especially THIS one," Sledge warned, waving a shimmering laser
disc in his hand. "You're asking for an early deactivation with this
alone!"
Trojan shook his head. The Micromasters were harmless by
themselves, but having all six prattling voices speak at once was
pushing his patience to the extreme. The small robots swarmed at his
feet like toddlers around a shopping-mall Santa. He took a deep breath
and tried again. "Look, I don't care HOW dangerous it is, can you do
it?"
"Of course we can!"
"But it'll cost ya!"
"Lots!"
"Security!"
"Secrecy!"
"Testing!"
"Okay, okay," Trojan agreed. "How much to have it all in three
days?"
"Three days?" Sledge pondered for a moment. "It's rather short
notice. How about 500,000 kiloergs of Energon?"
"What?" Trojan snapped; that was far more than he had expected.
Accessing his internal memory, he replied, "100,000. Period."
"One hundred?"
"Don't make us laugh!"
"Highway robbery!"
"Forget it!"
"Get lost!"
"You're crazy!"
Trojan smiled, a predatory gleam in his eye. "100,000 kiloergs
... and I won't tell Galvatron about that high-impact personal armor
that you guys haven't been sharing with the rest of the Decepticons."
The Constructors blurted as one and started babbling with each
other in shock. Sledge's voice cut through the ruckus as he sharply
asked Trojan, "How'd you know about that?"
"I have my ways. Now, do we have an agreement?"
"...all right."

* * *

Time passed. On Earth, it would have been a hundred and
thirty-three hours, or five-and-a-half days. On Charr, it would have
been more than six planetary rotations. On Cybertron, just under four.
At the Head of Unicron, without a sun to orbit or rotations to count, it
was just -- time.
The ship took the same path as before, but it was not the same
ship. Though the shuttle was not as large or as nimble or as fast as
the scout craft, it made a respectable copy of the route, using the Head
of Unicron to hide it from anyone watching from Cybertron's surface. At
the last minute, it skimmed over the top, then banked around and dove
through the shattered eye with plenty of room to spare.
The purple shuttle landed quickly. A moment later, Trojan
stepped out through the side door, pulling an anti-grav cart behind him,
carrying a dull steel rectangular casket that rested upright upon it.
When both cart and carrier were clear, Astrotrain transformed to his
robot mode. "Boy, this place is creepy," he said while glancing about.
Trojan nodded. "It's not bad once you get used to it."
The two headed down the winding passageways, Trojan in the lead.
Astrotrain asked, "HOW many times have you been here?"
"Just once."
Trojan moved faster now with familiarity, and Astrotrain stepped
up his pace to follow. "C'mon, Trojan. At least tell me what you've
got in the box."
"It's a surprise."
Astrotrain sighed heavily; he had joined in this excursion
through a combination of boredom, Trojan's sweet-talk, and his own
curiousity, but Trojan refused to divulge any details about what they
were doing. With the specter of Unicron nearby, he suddenly snapped,
"I'm sticking my neck out for you already! If Galvatron knew we were
here, he'd pop a gasket big time! I think I deserve to know SOMETHING!"
Trojan remained undaunted. "You'll find out soon enough." He
paused briefly before adding, "Besides, if I told you, you'd have said
it was impossible."
"You mean I wouldn't have helped you."
"That, too."
They continued in silence, not stopping until they reached a
large, hexagonal- shaped room. Trojan wheeled the cart to the exposed
circuitry at the far wall, then lowered it to the ground. "We're here."
A faint whisper breezed through the room. /WELCOME./
Astrotrain jumped. "Aaaaah!"
Trojan was by his side in an instant, steadying him with a
reassuring grip on the shoulders. "Astrotrain, calm down!"
"That's Unicron!" he shouted.
Trojan grabbed harder to stop his struggling. "Control
yourself, will you? We're safe. He's going to help us."
Astrotrain composed himself, then looked at Trojan with pure
skepticism. "Help us? How?"
"Let's open the box and you'll see." Trojan pressed his palm
against a square on one face; the lock popped open with a soft click,
and the lid swung open. Astrotrain gasped.
"MEGATRON?!"
He was just as Astrotrain remembered. The imposing form of
steel and gray, master of all Decepticons and scourge of the Autobots.
Astrotrain recalled his last view of Megatron, when the
barely-functional body was tossed away like so much scrap. Now
Astrotrain cautiously stepped forward towards the immobile former
Decepticon leader. Nervously, he waved one hand in front of Megatron's
face, but there was no response. Finally he noticed that the eyes were
the dark red of deactivation.
Astrotrain turned to Trojan and asked, "Is it a dummy?"
"No. It's him -- most of him, anyway. Now to set up the rest
of the gear."
Trojan reached towards Megatron's feet, dragging out a large
metal cube and a Y-shaped length of cable. The cube was two meters on a
side, and transparent walls revealed a densely-packed collection of
circuitry and crystals within. The cables were shielded and thick,
joining together in a small metal case with a single button as its only
feature.
As Astrotrain watched, Trojan reached for Megatron's forehead
and revealed a hidden data access port, then plugged one of the cables
into it. A second cable was plugged into the large box, and the third
into a port on the wall of circuitry. Trojan then spoke to the ceiling,
"Is everything in order?"
There was a long pause before Unicron replied. /YES ... PERFECT
... I AWAIT ... YOUR SIGNAL./
Without any fanfare, Trojan pressed the button on the metal
case. At first, Astrotrain wondered if something was wrong, as there
was no sign of activity. Then he noticed that the crystals and the
lights in the cube were beginning to light up. He whispered to Trojan,
"What's going on?"
"Unicron is copying himself into the storage cube," he replied,
pointing. "At the same time, Megatron's personality is being downloaded
into the body."
"What? Where'd he get Megatron from?"
"Unicron found Megatron in space, and remade him as Galvatron.
Apparently, in the process, Unicron also made a copy of Megatron's
personality and memories ... for study."
"So what about the cube?"
"That's part of the deal: he'll restore Megatron if we revive
him, too. The cube's storage until Unicron gets a new body."
Astrotrain didn't respond; he was instead seriously debating the
wisdom of unleashing Unicron on the universe once more. He was not long
in thought before a new voice interrupted them:
"...wh..."
Trojan and Astrotrain rushed to Megatron's side and stared in
amazement. His optics glowed a soft red as consciousness began to
return. "Megatron!" Astrotrain cried, "can you hear me?"
The silence stretched to an unbearable length before he replied,
"...Yes..." He looked quickly at the two robots before him, and relaxed
when he saw the Decepticon emblems they wore.
The two stepped back as Megatron stirred. With cautious
movements, he disconnected the cable from his forehead, then took a few
tentative steps out of the casket. "What happened?"
"You've been 'gone' for over two years now," Trojan tactfully
replied. "What do you remember?"
Megatron pondered, flexing his fingers to test them. He smiled
slightly and said, "I remember ... Optimus Prime." Then an angry scowl.
"Starscream." Then: "Unicron. He found me ... repaired me ... made me
into Galvatron." With careful movements, Megatron glanced around the
room.
"You know that?" Trojan asked in surprise.
Megatron paused, sifting his memories as he searched for the
right words. "Yes ... It seems I have been given ... additional
information."
/MY WORK,/ Unicron spoke.
"Yes," Megatron acknowledged. "I remember now. You--" he
turned to Trojan, "--came for information about Galvatron, and forged a
deal with Unicron to restore me."
Trojan nodded. "We need you, Megatron."
"Do we ever," Astrotrain added. "Galvatron's done nothing but
drove the Decepticons into the dirt ever since he took over."
"TRAITORS!"
The three wheeled as one. In the doorway across the room was
Galvatron and Cyclonus. Galvatron's laser cannon was pointed at them,
and Cyclonus had his own rifle at the ready. Galvatron pointed an
accusing finger at Trojan. "I KNEW you couldn't be trusted! You'll
both pay for this, after I obliterate this upstart!"
Megatron turned to Astrotrain. "Galvatron?"
Astrotrain nodded. With that, Megatron charged. He tackled
Galvatron just as the other fired; the blast strayed and struck the
ceiling, raining sparks on the room. Astrotrain pulled Trojan to safety
behind the casket, while Megatron slammed Galvatron into a bank of video
monitors.
He was kicked away an instant later and skidded to the center of
the chamber. "FOOL! No one defeats Galvatron!" A second bolt of energy
roared from his laser cannon. Megatron dodged, and the monitors behind
him shattered in a burst of shards.
Trojan popped out from his hideout and fired from his
arm-mounted mortar cannon, but it easily missed. As Galvatron turned to
the new threat, Megatron dashed and delivered a powerful punch to the
jaw. Yelling to the others, "He's mine!" he grabbed Galvatron and
tossed him across the room.
Galvatron struck another wall of monitors and fell to the
ground, sprinkled and surrounded by fine glass fragments. "No! I am
INVINCIBLE!" His laser cannon fired again, a pure green burst that
caught the rampaging Megatron square in the chest.
As Megatron staggered back from the impact, Galvatron ran over
and tripped him, sending the former leader crashing to the ground.
Standing triumphantly above, Galvatron pointed his cannon at Megatron
and proclaimed, "NOW we shall see who is TRULY fit to lead the
Decepticons!"
Megatron rolled and dodged the fatal shot. One leg lashed out
and knocked Galvatron's cannon away, then continued the swing and caught
Galvatron in the chest. "You talk too much," Megatron admonished as he
climbed to his feet.
Galvatron sprinted for his wayward cannon, but was felled
suddenly as he screamed, "AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!"
Trojan and Astrotrain came out from behind the crate; Cyclonus,
who was hiding behind the doorway outside, stepped into the room. They
gathered to watch in morbid fascination as Galvatron writhed.
"CycloneeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Megatron, in understanding, looked to the ceiling. "Why?"
Unicron chuckled; a dry sound of vengeance. /HE ... BETRAYED
ME./
Galvatron screamed louder as the level of the torture increased.
Cyclonus winced. "Stop it," Megatron ordered their unseen host.
In response, Galvatron screamed again, even louder. The shriek
of his torment was an inhuman sound, too painful to be completely
purged.
Megatron pointed his fusion cannon at the box containing
Unicron's copied essence. "STOP IT!"
The screaming halted. Galvatron laid on the ground, twitching
nervously, optics closed. His face was twisted in a macabre portrait of
agony.
"Galvatron," Megatron spoke, poking the Decepticon leader with
his foot. When that garnered no response, he pulled Galvatron to his
feet. Without a pause, Megatron spun him around, placed him into the
metal crate that he had rested in earlier, and shouted, "Galvatron!"
As his pains slowly started to recede, Galvatron's eyes slowly
fluttered open. "...wh...whut..."
Megatron waited patiently, until the look of recognition finally
appeared in Galvatron's eyes. Too weak to react, all he could do was
stare while Megatron asked once more, "Galvatron?"
"...yes?..."
Megatron smiled in hideous delight. "Good-bye."
He tucked his fusion cannon under Galvatron's chin, then fired.
The bolt was brief and sickeningly quiet. Megatron stepped
back. Half of Galvatron's head was simply sheared away, revealing
exposed components that sputtered and smoked. The body remained
motionless for several seconds, then toppled forward and crashed to the
floor. The corridor outside echoed from the sound of the impact.
Megatron carefully watched the corpse, in case it dared to move.
It didn't. With warm satisfaction, he finally said, "Good riddance."
He turned to Cyclonus and watched him with a hard, piercing
glare. Cyclonus showed no signs of nervousness, but stood impassively.
Finally, Megatron snarled, "What is your name?"
"Cyclonus."
Megatron pointed to the body. "Why didn't you help him?"
"I wanted to see if you were better. Galvatron's leadership was
inept; he meant nothing to me."
Megatron's glare hardened. "And what about MY leadership?"
Coldly, Cyclonus said, "You have my total obedience so long as
we defeat the Autobots."
There was a long moment of silence, during which no one moved.
Finally, Megatron smiled. "Very good. Very, very good..." Turning,
Megatron continued, "Astrotrain!"
"Yes, Megatron!"
"Do I have your total and undying loyalty?"
Astrotrain smiled brightly, and stiffened to attention. "Of
COURSE, mighty Megatron!"
Megatron returned the smile, then paced until he stood before
Trojan. "And YOU ... Trojan. You have never served me before, have
you?"
"No."
Megatron pondered for a moment. "You know that Galvatron would
have terminated you if he had learned what you were doing. Weren't you
afraid?"
Trojan replied, half-lying, "No."
Megatron smiled softly. "You have initiative, Trojan. Courage.
Intellect." Silently, Trojan basked in the pride, grateful that Megatron
could not see the broad grin that grew on his face.
Suddenly, Megatron grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into
the empty casket. His hand constricted tightly as he growled, "You have
TOO MUCH initiative, Trojan. You're very dangerous. How can I be sure
you won't betray me someday?"
Trojan tried to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say.
He squirmed helplessly instead.
Megatron continued. "Galvatron couldn't scare you into
submission. That was his mistake, and it killed him. Starscream was
mine, and he killed me. But I'm back, and I won't make that mistake
with you." He pointed the barrel of his fusion cannon at Trojan's face.
With a sinister grin, he added, "Don't take this personally."
Just before reality ended, Trojan realized that he had finally
found the true cause of Galvatron's madness.

* * *

It was several minutes before Astrotrain finally asked.
"Megatron?"
"Yes, Astrotrain?"
"Why did you leave the box behind?"
"You mean Unicron?"
"Yes."
Megatron spoke slowly, as if each word was extracted at great
pain. "He forced me into becoming Galvatron. He made me his pawn,
through Galvatron. As Galvatron, he tormented me, tortured me, and took
delight in hurting me. No one -- NO ONE -- gets away with that."
Astrotrain paused before continuing. "But you broke the
promise."
Megatron laughed. "Promise? What promise? Trojan made the
promise with Unicron, not ME. Unicron picked a poor ally."
Astrotrain said nothing but flew on. Cyclonus, in the seat next
to Megatron, continued his uninterrupted streak of impassive silence.
Shortly, Astrotrain announced, "We're here."
"Full stop. Turn us around."
Astrotrain complied. From the windows of the shuttle cockpit,
Unicron's head was in profile view, facing Cybertron on the right.
Megatron watched in appreciation, absolutely motionless, lost in his
innermost thoughts.
Finally, he smiled, and solemnly proclaimed, "My warriors. I
give you ... the birth of the new Decepticon Empire." He pressed a
button on the armrest.
With a silent, blinding flash of white, the Head of Unicron
exploded.
Astrotrain rocked, buffeted by both the force of the blast and
the ensuing torrent of debris. Soon, however, it was over. Nothing of
the Chaos-Bringer remained, nothing to even hint of the morbid monument
that once orbited Cybertron.
The shuttle turned once again; with a roar of rockets, the three
headed directly for Charr. Megatron was going home.

THE END

#Trojan Function: Data Acquisition Group: Decepticon
" Total knowledge leads to total power. "
| Stren. | Intel. | Speed | Endur. | Rank | Cour. | Firep. | Skill |
4 8 8 7 3 7 5 10

Insatiably curious. Vast memory remembers everything. The ultimate
hacker, uses computer skills to infiltrate systems; leaves no files
unseen. Acts friendly to get information from others. Knowledge
used for blackmail and to find foes' weaknesses. As space cruiser,
files up to 30,000 miles. As robot, fires arm-mounted mortar
cannons. Fingers have various data link access connectors.

Huh. I realize this is old. And the user doesn't look to be active on this forum any more. I heard from a couple of people over the years about the fanfic I wrote … waaaay back in the 1990s, "Optimus Prime Goes to Hell." I'm amazed it's still out there. I did a Google search and it brought me here. I never thought to do that before.